JACKAL(Regency Refuge #2)
Back Cover Blurb:Hiding in the shadows just got harder.
When tragedy strikes, Juliana and
her family must flee their home. Can they persuade a virtual stranger to help
them? Juliana isn't so sure, especially after their chaperone threatens to cane
him. Even as Juliana struggles to trust him, she finds herself drawn to this
mysterious man. Surely all she wants from him is refuge…
Rupert is a man whose life
depends on his ability to remain unnoticed. What, then, is he supposed to do
with this family he's inherited? His
life is overrun with an ancient chaperone who would terrify a lesser man, two
spirited girls, and the secretive Juliana – someone he comes to think of as his
own precious jewel.
With this new responsibility
thrust upon him, Rupert will have to make sacrifices – but will God ask him to
sacrifice everything?
Excerpt:1810
A duke had been cut
down in the prime of his life. According to the War Department, The Hunter was
to blame.
Jackal had been put
onto The Hunter's scent and told to ferret him out at all cost. It was his job,
his duty to the crown, and he treated it with the seriousness it demanded. Evil
could not be allowed to go unpunished, and people who took pleasure in
destroying the lives of others would not walk away with impunity, not on his
watch.
Jackal met with his
contacts in the Austrian government and found no gratification in revealing
they had a traitor in their midst. It had been a necessary move, and now the
problem would be dealt with. The Austrians would put The Hunter down, and
England's hands would remain clean of the mess, exactly as the minister wanted.
Grim foreboding
furrowed his brow as he left the meeting with the Austrians. His lack of
evidence mocked him. He'd done as ordered, and they'd believed him, but had it
been his choice, he'd have gathered more proof first.
Jackal climbed into
his carriage and slapped his hand against the roof, signaling the driver with
his readiness to depart. A lengthy ride awaited him. He would leave the
carriage and his current identity behind in Munich once he arrived there. New
papers and fresh horses were waiting for him. The same would happen again when he
crossed over into Stuttgart, and then again in Brussels. His task was clear:
remain alive long enough to claim each of the new identities and return safely
to his homeland.
Sitting back on the
roughly cushioned seat, he accepted what he'd begun to suspect. This would be
his last assignment for the crown. He was getting too old for the job. The time
to retire was upon him. The younger bucks were willing – if not entirely ready
– to take their place among the ranks of the unseen, unknown, and unnamed heroes
of war. Jackal shook his head. Not too long ago, he'd been one of those young
bucks. Ready for retirement at age thirty-two? The thought would be laughable
in any other career. In his line of work, though, only those who retired young
lived to be old and grey.
Lost in melancholy, Jackal
barely noted the change from the raucous noise of a bustling merchant district
to the quiet pastoral sounds that would accompany him on most of this journey.
Europe was a large land with rich cities interspersed with vast emptiness
dotted with small hamlets. Traveling by carriage would take weeks, but as long
as he could report back that he'd done as ordered, it would be worth the time.
He settled into his seat. They
were still days from their first sanctioned stop. As always, the best defense
was to keep moving.
****
A change in the carriage's
soothing methodical movement woke Jackal from his doze and alerted him that
something was amiss. Awareness coursed through his veins, pushing away the
remnant of sleep. A quick glance at the curtained window told him it was late
morning. They'd ridden through the night to put as much distance as possible
between them and Vienna – the current hub of Austrian government.
The carriage was moving with a
wildness he'd felt only one other time in his life. Dread snaked through his
middle as he accepted the truth. There was no longer a driver in control of his
conveyance. Jackal crouched low on the floor for balance as he prepared to
throw open the door and jump. Perhaps he should have sought retirement one
assignment sooner.
Before his hand could touch the
door, a jarring force threw Jackal against the seat to his left, shooting pain
up his arm. They'd been boarded, then, and his driver – an agent he'd worked
with for years – had likely not been alive to sound the alarm. Emotion would
come later. For now, Jackal needed to focus on one thing: Survival.
The carriage gained speed under
the skillful hand of whoever now sat in the driver's seat. I should have jumped when I had the chance. Jackal shook his head
as he calculated the odds of survival.
Palming his gun, he pounded on
the roof of the carriage, commanding the driver to stop. Surprise flared to
life as his conveyance did indeed come to a standstill. Rather than slow to a
gentle stop, the carriage halted its forward momentum in a skidding
bone-shaking fashion. It was the kind of stop that guaranteed no beast would be
able to walk away from it afterward.
Jackal jumped before
the dust could settle. His best chance would be to go on the offence and catch
the driver off-guard. Though he'd assumed the driver had a partner, nothing
could have prepared him for the vicious attack awaiting him on the other side
of the door.
Jackal no sooner
touched the ground than he was trampled under the anxious feet of a
high-stepping horse. He'd not even had a chance to gain his footing. As he lay
on the ground, Jackal both heard and felt the breaking of bone in his left leg.
A couple of his ribs surrendered to the heavy hooves as well. Rolling onto his
side, he took aim at the perpetrator. The sun blinded him, and he could
distinguish no features on the man whose gun dared him to move. In the split
second it took for him to reassure himself he was not aiming at an innocent
bystander – for they were indeed in one of the numerous modest hamlets that
dotted the continent's countryside – the rider pulled the trigger, and pain
seared through Jackal's already throbbing leg. It felt as if the lead had
burrowed its way into his very bone.
He pulled the
trigger of his flintlock pistol, and the man on the horse recoiled. Even as
Jackal reached for the gun concealed at the ankle of his wounded leg, he knew
it was futile. The rider had a second gun in-hand before his own fingers even
brushed against the grip of his hidden weapon. Pain tore through his shoulder,
immobilizing his shooting arm. Another ball of lead ripped into his middle. He
felt his blood seeping out onto the street.
Accepting his fate,
he asked only one thing. "At whose hand am I to die this day?"
Laughter vile enough
to sour port met his question. "Today the Jackal shall meet his end at the
hands of The Hunter."
The
Hunter? The Austrians were supposed to have him by now.
"Your plan
failed, and I am free. Prepare to die."
Blackness closing in
around him, Jackal released the last thought held captive in his mind.
Why
God?
Cold claimed his
body as he slipped into darkness. He neither heard nor felt the next shot.
Author Bio:
Heather Gray is the author of the Ladies of Larkspur
inspirational western romance series, including Mail Order man, Just Dessert, and Redemption. She also writes
the Regency Refuge series with titles His
Saving Grace, Jackal, and the soon-to-be-released Queen. But that's not
all! Interested in contemporary
Christian romance? Take a look at Ten Million Reasons and Nowhere for Christmas.
Heather loves coffee, God, her family, and laughter – not
necessarily in that order! She writes
approachable and flawed characters who, through the highs and lows of life,
find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with
her. And, yeah, her books almost always
have someone who's a coffee addict. Some
things just can't be helped.
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